The Blood Bride (Blood Secrets) by Imogene Nix Read Free Book Online Page A

be. It would be a shake of the head without a single hair flying free.
    “Alexa? No, the Master would not allow that. She doesn’t have the knowledge and experience for the demands of the role, anyway. Let alone the discipline. She wants children and is in fact already expecting, from what I understand. That would get in the way of her learning how to handle a household and nest as diverse and large as this one.” Her mother’s words weren’t meant to sound unkind, Hope knew, but somehow the tone just made her feel colder at the hint of darkness lurking in her mother’s eyes. The walls were closing around her and soon there would be no escape.
    A bubble of fear rose in her chest, and she had to grip the arms of her chair tightly. How could this happen to her?
    “But I don’t want to do this.” A feeling of being constricted against her will rose. “I want a job, Mother. I want to do something with my degree. I want to be something. Not just someone who runs a nest. I want to live my own life!”
    The final word cracked and Hope’s gaze was met with a disdainful look and tensed shoulders. The emotional response lashed at Hope once more. “You don’t think I do something?” The cold anger in the answer ate at Hope. She’d angered her mother, overstepping the line. There could be nothing more degrading than telling her mother that she did nothing—she could almost hear her mother’s thoughts. She wanted to cry at the unfairness.
    Coming home was supposed to be the beginning of her life, not a life sentence, she thought, self-pity dragging at her. She reached out towards her mother, seeking some form of connection. “I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t mean that as it came out. I meant, I just don’t think I am cut out for your kind of life. To be what you are and to do what you do.”
    Hope willed her mother to understand, but knew it was not a prayer that was going to be listened to from the set of her shoulders and the white lines around her lips. If only someone could or would understand. Instead her mother moved away, behind her desk. The physical barrier cut off any action Hope had intended, and the pain inside her grew bigger, suffocating her, until all that existed was a seething, frustrated mass.
    “You may be excused for now. We have a meeting at eleven with the managers. Be on time. You may not care what I do, but I will be professional and well-mannered to the end. Remember, if you don’t care about your reputation, I care about mine.” Then her mother picked up a file and swung her chair around to face the window. Tears leaked from Hope’s eyes at the dismissal in her gaze. She knew there was nothing else to do, so she turned slowly, then picked up her papers and walked carefully towards the door. As she reached out, she cast a glance over her shoulder, but the sight of the chair swinging away reinforced that it was time to leave. With a heavy sigh, she opened the door then left her mother.

    * * * *

    Dressing slowly, Hope pondered on the day that had passed, stopping in the act of pulling the black and silver gown over her underwear-clad body. It had started badly, and only got worse after the altercation in the parlour.
    The meeting with the managers had made her mother angrier. They’d discussed the ongoing issues with maintenance, managers and setting the increase in rental rates. Hope had watched with trepidation, as her mother had been short and curt by the end, no doubt strung out by the varied problems that had arisen. By the time the decorators had arrived, her mother had been almost snarling in anger, and had ended the appointment with a request to meet in a couple of days, giving her time to consider swatches and layouts. None of it obviously had been what she’d intended.
    Hope couldn’t see herself continuing the programme of rehabilitating the properties that had been targeted in the last few years. True, her mother had done an exceptional job, but she knew her attention to that